It Almost Happened One Night
by monkey-in-hell
Summary: A2A G/A drabble.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Little G/A drabble, undoubtedly inspired by all the alcohol I consumed. And the complete frustration of knowing that even though series two is currently being filmed, it'll be months before there's any new episodes...

It (Almost) Happened One Night

Gene threw his keys forcefully onto his desk, the bitter air of anger and disappointment that had followed him all the way into the station showing no signs of abating. If he paused to think about the source of that anger he'd have to acknowledge that it lay elsewhere, that it had very little to do with failing to make an arrest today. But he didn't. Heading to his right he sought out the bottle he kept stashed there, along with a glass, and headed for his chair. It was only as he sat down, bottle unscrewed and the neck poised above the rim of the glass, that he realised he'd left his office door open. And that Alex was heading straight for him.

"It's all your fault anyway," Alex shouted loudly, not caring if the rest of CID heard or not. The fact Gene had stormed off into the office ahead of her - after a rather silent and strained drive back to the station which had ended in him bringing the car to a screeching halt outside of the building and turning in his seat to lay the blame squarely at her feet - didn't mean their argument was over. Or that he was right. Though, much to her consternation, he actually was.

He managed to get a dribble of the amber liquid into the glass before her words reached his ears and he slammed the bottle down heavily onto the desk in response. "And just how is it my fault? I wasn't the one who fell asleep!" The image of her softly slumbering in a swimming costume, eyes shaded by sunglasses, and lounging by the hotel pool would probably never leave him - hell, most of the last twenty-four hours would never leave him.

Alex came to a halt in front of his desk, leaning forward only slightly, "Because you kept me awake all night!" She'd briefly thought about slamming the door behind her as she'd crossed the threshold into his lair but there seemed little point - their voices would carry out of the room and be heard regardless and if they weren't she was sure that Ray would come up with his own version of events anyway. Now she wished she had. She regretted the words almost as soon as she'd said them, as soon as she realised what she was admitting to. Somewhere along the line her anger - at herself and at Gene's disappointment with her - had got the better of her and allowed the truth to come spilling out. She didn't think anyone would guess the true nature behind her comment but she was fully aware of how it sounded. The sudden silence from the outer office pretty much confirmed what she feared they'd all now be thinking and she didn't need to glance backwards to know that Ray and Chris, who had remained surprisingly silent during this morning's journey back to CID, were currently swapping grins that just screamed, 'I knew it'. Whose stupid idea had it been anyway to spend the night undercover at a hotel? Oh, that was right - it had been hers. "You snore," she slung on hastily, hoping to salvage the situation by distracting him. And it was partly true.

"I do not snore," Gene countered angrily, fully aware of how insupportable that statement was - he'd be the last person to know if he snored or not on account of being asleep at the time - and also unable to refute her accusation without giving himself away. And she was really pissing him off now by announcing the whole thing to the station. He didn't want the rest of the team to think he'd got his leg over with Drake but he didn't particularly want them to discount the possibility either. Just because he couldn't have her didn't mean anyone else could. Or that he didn't want her.

"Oh, you do," she bit back, safe in the knowledge that she had the upper hand in this particular argument even if it wasn't strictly true. He snored, there was no doubt about that, but that wasn't what had kept her awake for most of the night. She just hadn't been able to sleep with him. There. Next to her. The gentle rhythmic sound of him snoozing mere centimetres away had bothered her but only because he'd apparently had no problems getting off to sleep in the first place. When it had come to saying 'goodnight', after a rather pleasant evening of faking it as a couple in the hotel restaurant, he'd used his usual subtlety regarding the sleeping arrangements and, for her, it had been a stark reminder of where she was and who she was with. Unsure of his intentions, and of her own, she'd brushed him off with her own usual manner but the entire evening had left her feeling unsettled. And the realisation, that he'd not been as ruffled by their situation as she had been, had led to a fitful night's sleep for her, her mind stretching out the idea further and tormenting her with theories; why hadn't he tried harder, why had she wanted him to, and was he just all mouth and leering innuendoes; and why did all of those thoughts bother her so much?

Knocking back the contents of his glass with one quick gulp he found the drink sadly lacking. The short had done nothing to temper his short mood. "Fine," he snapped, unhappy with her words and the glare she was currently throwing at him. This was all her fault, she had no right to be annoyed with him. Bloody woman - he'd never figure her out. It'd been a stupid idea anyway, going undercover - all this surveillance nonsense was only getting in the way of real policing; "Next time you can bloody take Ray!" Even stupider had been his reaction to the initial suggestion that Ray accompany Alex to the hotel; a pang of possessiveness, one that he had no real right to feel, had swept over him, resulting in him taking Ray's place in case the Sergeant cocked it up. At least that was how he'd put it. What exactly had he been thinking? Whatever it had been, the way she had continuously rebuffed his cautious verbal suggestions that they used the night to the best advantage had only proven one thing: she was his DI; he was her DCI. There was something so brain-achingly complicated about all of it that it seemed so naive to think that it could ever be resolved by just a few select words or maybe one perfectly timed kiss. She wasn't interested in him. She probably never would be. He wasn't some Thatcherite banker or leftie lawyer.

"Fine," she snapped back, feeling as if she'd been slapped across the face once again by his rejection. There wouldn't be another night at the hotel; she'd blown it this morning and she had a feeling they'd be taking the more direct approach next time - there'd be no talking him around on the subject as she had done the previous week. She swivelled on one boot heeled foot and made her way out of his office, ignoring the stares from her colleagues and determined not to show how upset she actually was. There were reports to write, some intelligence to catch up on, plenty of things to occupy her mind. Plenty of things to think about other than him. And how she'd spent the previous night in bed with him, straining through the gloom of their room so she could stare variously at his strong profile, at the back of his head where the hair curled deliciously against his ear and draped across the back of his neck, and at the worn features of his face wishing his eyes were open so she could witness once more the blue depths that quite possibly would be her undoing one day. She wouldn't think about the dreams she'd had at the side of the pool, dreams of him when she should have been watching the suspect, nor would she think about the sight of him stood over her, his eyes dark with either lust or anger, when she'd awoken, almost causing her to act upon those dreams. She wouldn't think about those things at all.

"Fine," he whispered under his breath as he watched her take a seat at her desk, her gaze firmly planted on the case-file in front of her. Switching his sight to the now empty glass on his own desk he rubbed his head tiredly. Despite what he'd let her believe he'd managed to get very little sleep last night - how could he with her only inches away from him? She might not have been naked but his imagination, and the few brief glimpses he'd been privy to, had filled in the blanks and it had been very hard to hold back. Once or twice he'd been so hard that he'd had to roll away from her though, like a moth to a flame, he'd inevitably returned to face her. It hadn't mattered that he was feigning sleep and therefore couldn't see her; every eyelash, every lock of hair, every patch of skin was ingrained in his memory - he could imagine how it would feel to trace one fingertip down the soft skin of her cheek, to see reflected in her eyes the desire he felt for her, to brush his lips against hers. And he'd been so close to doing all three of those things. He poured out another, larger this time, measure and sat back in his chair, resisting the urge to close his eyes. He couldn't fall asleep here - not after everything he'd said. He sat forward suddenly, his eyes darting back to her. He'd lied about being asleep; why had she lied about him snoring? What had really kept her awake?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Consensus was for more so here goes nothing.

It (Almost) Happened One Night

Chapter Two

Gene threw his keys forcefully onto his desk, an air of... well, he wasn't sure exactly what it consisted of; anger, disappointment, embarrassment, frustration maybe? He suspected it had very little to do with the failure, once again, to make an arrest. Whatever the air was it had tailed him all the way back to the station and showed little sign of leaving any time soon. Following a familiar path he headed to his right, seeking out the bottle of booze he kept there. Grabbing a glass, he took it and the bottle to his desk and took a seat just in time to see Alex come to a stop in front of his desk. She didn't look as if she had a problem with what had happened, in fact she almost looked amused. "This is all your fault, you do know that don't you?" he said evenly, pouring out a healthy measure of spirit.

"How is it my fault?" Alex asked, one eyebrow raised quizzically as she watched him carefully complete his task and place the bottle down on his desk with little fanfare. She folded her arms defensively under her chest as a sense of deja-vu drifted by. The last twenty-four hours had been intimately entwined with that strange feeling of 'already seen' but it most definitely was not her fault this time around. For any of it. That he was going to try and shift the blame to her probably should have annoyed her but there was no malice in his voice, not like yesterday. Some things were different this morning. And at least he was talking now, which was an improvement on the stony silence - save for a few choice words he'd angrily hurled at Chris and Ray as they'd pulled up outside the station - that had marked their journey from the hotel.

"It was your bloody idea to go undercover in the first place," he groused irrationally; it wasn't really her fault but that had been the start of it and he certainly hadn't been expecting the ending they'd ended up with. As if on cue he spotted Ray and Chris gawping inside, along with the rest of the team, and the reminder threatened to exacerbate his mood. Standing abruptly he made his way around the desk, avoiding Alex's gaze as he went, and - after throwing his Northern brethren a warning glare - he slammed the door shut.

Turning to face him, arms a little looser across her stomach, she sat back against his desk watching him as he waited for CID to feign indifference before he turned around to face her, a look of mild annoyance on his face. "It wasn't my idea to go back," she reminded him quietly and his eyes finally came to rest on hers. Intensely. And she could only respond in kind. She'd been surprised when Gene had called her back into his office yesterday afternoon and, despite his dissatisfaction, had suggested that they continue with their surveillance at the hotel. Surprised and suspicious. And a little hesitant of a repeat showing - she didn't think she could take another sleepless night. Of course he'd offered it up as somewhat of a challenge, so much more persuasive than just ordering her and, dismissing the thought that he was somehow trying to punish her by making her go back, she'd found she couldn't refuse.

He tried his best to look authoritative, he really did, but she was staring so deliciously at him, sat there, on his desk. On his desk. Those three words awoke a long abandoned desire and he regretted not closing the blinds when he'd shut the door. He reminded himself of the voyeuristic audience outside and tried not to think about the desk or her, or how she'd felt in his arms, her body pressed against his own, or the taste of her lips. "You agreed," he hit back, his voice low. For a long time yesterday evening he'd thought it had been a stupid idea to go back to the hotel. But it had bothered him; she'd bothered him, with her excuses and explanations that just didn't ring true. There was the chance that they could still get the job done but truthfully he'd been more interested in proving his theory that she'd spent a sleepless night beside him for the same reasons he'd spent a sleepless night beside her. Possibly not the greatest plan in the world but he had achieved his objective.

"I didn't think you'd fall asleep," she said softly, a hint of an accusation in her tone but she dropped her arms to her side, hands coming to rest on the edge of the desk. He really had fallen asleep last night and not just pretended to as he had done before. His confession about that had come as something of a surprise. Finding herself sat opposite her DCI in the hotel restaurant for the second night in a row, the prospect of another torturous night looming ahead of her, and once more faking a relationship with Gene with consummate ease, she'd found herself studying him closely, wondering if she should be the one to do something about 'it' and bugger the consequences. It was then that she'd noticed how tired he'd looked, especially for someone who'd managed to get some sleep the previous night; he'd looked as tired as she'd felt and that was when it had all become so much clearer.

"You'd kept me up the night before," he defended quickly, taking a step towards her, not breaking eye contact. He'd taken a risk in coming clean with her but the way that she'd asked him why he looked so tired had suggested that she was on to him anyway; it still could have all gone horribly wrong because, unlike an innuendo or a blatant leer, he'd had to admit to actually feeling something. But it turned out that a few choice words could work to his advantage. And that he'd been right. The realisation that they'd both lain there, each pretending not to be affected by the other, had brought a small smile to his lips and Alex had laughed softly, the sound and the sight of her going a long way in cancelling out the instant pang of regret he'd experienced at the wasted opportunity - a feat she was managing to duplicate right now. His evening had improved greatly after that though, looking back, maybe the drinks he'd consumed hadn't been such a good idea.

She swallowed lightly as he came to a halt in front of her, almost touching but not quite. In 2008 it would be sexual harassment. In 1981 she didn't give a damn; it wasn't close enough. "If only I could have kept you up last night," she whispered as his eyes bore into hers; coupled with the short distance between them he was managing to do untold things to her body without actually touching her and she wished once again that last night had turned out differently.

To say she'd been disappointed when she'd finally returned from checking in with Ray, and then Chris, because she'd been determined to have her way with Gene and wrap up the case at the same time, only to find him asleep on the bed would be an understatement but he'd looked so peaceful, jacket and tie discarded and shirt partially unbuttoned. They'd both had so little sleep - through no fault of their own - in the previous thirty-six hours that she'd been unable to hold it against him. Plus, he'd made his intentions towards her quite clear during dinner and if that stunning kiss in the restaurant before they'd parted, the one that had turned a few heads, had been anything to go by she'd decided that rather than waking him they could wait until the morning, when she had his full attention. When they both had more energy. So she'd slipped onto the bed next to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and, safe in the knowledge of what was to come the next morning, she'd drifted off to blissful sleep herself.

Leaning closer towards her he let one hand rise slowly, her breath catching in her throat as he moved. He really should have closed those blinds. He didn't need to turn around to know that they had a rapt audience once more and that it'd be courtesy of Ray because the man just couldn't keep his mouth shut. And Ray had a great deal to tell the rest of CID. He didn't mind them all thinking that he'd got his leg over with Alex but he certainly didn't want the news that he hadn't, and that he'd been found - in what could only be described as - snuggled against her, both fully clothed, to be thrown about. That they'd overslept could have been dealt with; that Ray, concerned that they hadn't come down for breakfast and fearing the worst (so the Sergeant had claimed), had barged into the room using a skeleton key and found them was going to be much harder to brush under the carpet. His reputation was going to be ruined. He reached around her, as close as possible, and picked up his glass, his own spirits lifting too at the thought of getting just that bit closer to her. The third time was always a charm. "There's always tonight, Bols."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Most definitely the last part. Thank you all for reading, big thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review. Hope this doesn't disappoint too much.

It (Almost) Happened One Night

Chapter Three

Gene threw the file lazily onto his desk where it landed sloppily amongst the clutter that already resided there. Heading to his right he picked up the bottle that he kept stashed away there and two glasses. Placing the vessels on top of the file he sat down and poured out two measures as Alex followed him into his office. "We are never going undercover again," he stated firmly as he placed the bottle down, noticing it was running low and making a mental note to replace it. All that time they'd wasted, hours that could have been put to much better use and all the booze he'd drunk during the last three days. It would have been easier to beat the information out of the suspect they were following rather than waiting around for days on end for their real target.

"We got the result we wanted, didn't we?" Alex countered defensively as she stopped just shy of his desk. They'd just spent the better part of the morning interviewing their main suspect - who had finally shown up at the hotel the previous evening, allowing them to make several arrests - and after a night in the cells, and faced with an angry DCI Hunt, the man had been very forthcoming with information. As far as she was concerned, the surveillance had worked a treat; there may have been a few... bumps along the road, and an incredible sense of bad timing over shadowing her, but nothing that couldn't be negotiated around.

"Mmm," he agreed non-committedly as he glanced to the side of her, to the outer office. For once the place actually looked busy, an air of excitement and energy seemed to have infused the team, no doubt at today's result, but Gene's eyes came to rest on a tired looking Ray. He was certain that the Sergeant had blabbed, despite his warnings to the contrary. It'd been quite a shock to see Ray yesterday morning, standing in the room, his eyes wide and his jaw on the floor. Annoying too, given the position he'd found himself in; the morning could have been so much more pleasant than scrambling reluctantly away from Alex and losing yet another opportunity with both her and the case. He could forgive Ray a great number of things but that wasn't one of them; nor was the comment Ray had made when it had been announced that they were going back to the hotel for yet another night - something along the lines of above the cover work, which had been accompanied by a short burst of schoolboy sniggering from those within earshot. It was probably all around the station by now, how he'd failed to get his leg over. "Third time around," he added, grudgingly, on as he moved his gaze back to Alex.

She considered him for a long moment, at the pout placed firmly on his lips, and completely aware of what was on his mind - and it wasn't the case. Or the undercover work. She wasn't best pleased that Ray had stumbled in on them either but it wasn't as if they'd been doing anything wrong - sadly - other than sleeping late and that wasn't a crime. A gawping Ray hadn't been the wake-up call she'd been anticipating and with last night being 'interrupted' by, as Gene had termed it, proper police work she had started to think that someone had it in for her. For them. Had started to think that maybe she couldn't actually have both and that it wasn't a good idea to try. "Third time's always a charm, Gene," she said softly, holding his gaze firmly.

"Frustrating though," Gene murmured softly, picking up a glass and leaning forward slightly. "All that waiting for the big finale," he finished as he handed the glass to her, her fingers brushing deliberately against his for the briefest of moments as she took his offering. And it had been very frustrating; spending one night awake, not being able to touch her and the next night asleep, touching her but not really being aware of doing so, or of being able to do more. He'd found himself thwarted at every turn and then, just when it had seemed as though he might get some relief, that they were both finally on the same page, she had to go and be proven right about the surveillance after all.

She took a long sip from the glass, never taking her eyes off his as she drank the amber liquid and considered his words. And the tone of his voice. Something was making her very warm and she didn't think it was the alcohol. Three days ago she never thought she'd be where she was now, in fact she would have found it hard to believe. Maybe she'd always been in denial about her attraction to Gene Hunt, finding it easier to tell herself that he wasn't real or she needed to concentrate on getting home or he was her DCI and off limits. One sleepless night spent next to him had been all it had taken to turn everything on its head. "Some things are worth waiting for, aren't they?" she asked quietly, searching his eyes for the veracity of his reply.

Making several arrests the previous evening had been fairly satisfying and though he wasn't keen on undercover work this particular case had been very revealing, in more ways than one, but it had been a relief to bring it to its conclusion. Of course, in doing so they had been left with some unfinished business of their own and, quite frankly, he hadn't been prepared to wait another night - the room had been paid for anyway so it had seemed a shame to waste it. He'd sent Ray back to the station to book in all the arrests and deal with the associated paperwork - which also served as a kind of punishment for the Sergeant - under the pretence of going home for a decent night's kip after spending two nights in a four star hotel that probably only warranted two. He didn't care if Ray had believed him or not; he didn't care if they all thought he'd slunk home without ever getting 'under the covers' with Alex or if they thought he'd spent all night shagging her senseless.

"They certainly are, Bols," he answered firmly, meeting her gaze steadily. Such beautiful eyes. And mouth. And body. The memory of her naked, on the bed, seeped into his thoughts and of how she'd felt last night in his arms, underneath him. And this morning, on top of him, her skin against his. Turned out his imagination had been close but not close enough though he suspected that, even now that he had explored every inch of her, it would never be as good as the real thing. Hopefully he'd never have to put that theory to the test.

She smiled at him, that warmth spreading throughout her, as she watched him slowly raise his glass to his lips, remembering how those same lips had caressed her own, had burnt a trail over her skin as they'd followed in the wake of his fingertips. She'd like to be able to admit to being surprised by his firm yet gentle touches or his warm probing tongue but that would mean she'd have to admit she'd actually thought about him before any of this. If she had, it had never come close to the feel of him touching her, moving against her, above her, underneath her, inside of her. "Want to go undercover again tonight?"

Gene glanced quickly outside once more, aware of the celebration that would take place tonight at Luigis - that actually looked like it was starting to take place now. He'd be expected to show his face, they both would, but there was somewhere else he'd much rather be. He wondered if Alex would be adverse to a couple of drinks and a blatantly obvious departure up to her flat. "Absolutely," he smiled at her.


End file.
